


Still Here

by colfhummel



Category: Glee
Genre: Gen, Past Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-13
Updated: 2015-10-13
Packaged: 2018-04-26 06:48:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4994335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colfhummel/pseuds/colfhummel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the Kurtoberfest Prompt #13: Graveyard.</p>
<p>Kurt visits his mother’s grave and gets a strong response after voicing a horrible wish.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Still Here

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: ok so this is my first piece of writing after an almost six month long hiatus + it’s not beta-read so I apologize beforehand /o\

Most children were afraid of graveyards.

But to nine year old Kurt Hummel it was the most comforting and peaceful place in the world.

The small path that led to his destination was scattered with red and brown leaves. Kurt loved the crunchy sound it made when he stepped on them. And in that moment, he was acting like the child he still was, stomping on them and dancing his way through them, lips curving up into a smile.

He was quickly passing grave after grave now, almost running as he followed the path that now lead a little downhill at this point.

Kurt couldn’t wait to talk to her.

 

Finally he reached the spot, right underneath the big oak.

„Hey Mom,“ he said as he kneeled down on the soft ground that was covered in a thick layer of fallen leaves. "School was great again today!“

A few seconds later, he sighed and shook his head. „Okay, I lied. It was terrible.“

For a while Kurt just rambled about his day, leaving out no detail, from the exact insults hurled at him by fellow kids to what he’s had for lunch and how it had tasted.

Then Kurt remembered what he’d been so excited to tell his mother about today. 

„Mom, I finally know what I’m gonna be for Halloween. I’m gonna be Peter Pan!“ Reaching down to the ground, he let his small hands run through the dry leaves. „Maybe I can use some of these leaves here and put them on my costume, that would look really cool, huh?“ His lips spread into a grin. He was always great at making costumes.

"I hope everyone will like my costume. I hope Dad…“ His smile faltered. "I don’t know if Dad’s gonna go trick-or-treating with me this year, though.” Kurt’s lips quirked up into a sad smile. “I don’t think he will.”

Sometimes he was afraid that one day his  father would just break. Before his mother’s death Kurt had been sure that there was nothing that could ever harm his dad. But now Kurt was terrified for him. 

For a while, Kurt just sat there, allowing himself to cry. It was good. Because if he already cried enough here then he’d cry less at home.

„You wanna know why I chose Peter Pan, Mom?" he hiccuped out between sobs, whimpering softly into the crook of his elbow where his jacket was already soaked from his tears. 

Deep down Kurt knew it was stupid to wait for an answer.

She’d never answer. Never again.

„I…wanna fly, Mommy,“ he whispered. „I just want to fly away.“

Kurt felt a twinge of guilt at his confession. Flying away would also mean leaving his dad behind. He could never do that.

Yet, things would probably just be easier for his dad if Kurt went away.

He knew he reminded him of her. There was a time where the comparisons to his mother had made Kurt happy, proud even. But whenever his dad mentioned it now, there was this sad look on his face.

He didn’t want his father to be sad anymore. 

 „Sometimes I wish that it would’ve been me instead. That would’ve been better. For Dad. For everyone.”

As soon as the words had left Kurt’s mouth, something changed.

The cool breeze that had gently swayed the branches of the tree suddenly turned into something bolder. Something that rushed through the tree loudly and with enough force to cause a shower of falling leaves.

A small gasp escaped Kurt’s lips and his head jolted up in surprise. Still sniffling and blinking through tears Kurt tried to see what had caused the ruckus.

„Hello?“ he asked in a small voice, expecting to see a bird or a squirrel hopping from branch to branch. But nothing was there. 

And then, Kurt smelled it.

His mother’s perfume.

Kurt was stone still. He didn’t even dare to blink. 

It couldn’t be.

Eventually, with a tiny flicker of hope flaring up inside his chest, Kurt turned around.

No one was there. Of course, there wasn’t. Kurt’s whole body slumped and he huffed out a disappointed sigh as he turned back around.

Yet, something was different. He could still smell the perfume as a warm and fuzzy feeling began to spread inside of him all the way through his chest and stomach.

He closed his eyes.

It was as if he was pressed against his mother, her arms securely wrapped around him, gently rocking him back and forth. It was just like he remembered.

And for a small second, Kurt could almost hear her soft voice in his ear.

_„It’s all going to be okay.“_


End file.
